Poker the sequel
by speakingwordsofwisdom
Summary: Sequel to my previous x files fic Poker based on my own prom experience . Please review, and i'll change it if you don't like it : MSR


**Rated- K**

**Disclaimer- Read my profile. Do you think I sound anything like Chris Carter?**

**Thank you thank you thank you to all my wonderful reviewers!!!! I love you all and you keep me writing. Seriously, your reviews make me happier than I can describe. Sorry if you've reviewed and I haven't replied- sometimes i'm in a hurry, but I will try to get round to it.**

**This story was specifically written for you, the person who asked me to write it, you know who you are. Hope you like it!!! :)**

**Virtual-cookies to anyone who reviews!**

**BTW I saw Wicked last night!!!!!!!!!!!!! It was so so so so AMAZING, I cant even describe it, but get ready for some Wicked fanfics, possibly Elphaba/Glinda or Elphaba/Fiyero. Anyone who has seen it and read the book, did you prefer book or play? I liked the play more, personally, tho it made me cry. The book is just depressing, to be honest.**

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Dana Scully didn't hate valentines day.

Not as much as she pretended to and not as much as she would have liked.

She wished she could be one of those hard core anti-valentines day people, who honestly believed everything they said- all the corporate-holiday money-making scam arguments they always brought up.

She wished she could wake up on the fourteenth just like it was any other morning.

She wished she could forget what day it was.

She wished she go a whole valentines day without even thinking about checking her mail for pink envelopes.

She wished she could stop caring, wished she didn't have that two-second thrill of anticipation, rising hopes, and then the sharp sting of disappointment, the pain of having to just casually walk away as if you didn't care when you suddenly felt so empty.

Dana Scully was a smart woman, too smart to let being single hold her back in any way. Every other day of the year, she silently pitied women who acted like this, letting themselves be so hurt by something that meant so little.

Which was why she still found it a shock, year after year after year, when she could so easily be pulled back into her fifteen year old self.

Why did she care so much, why did it matter to her- a cheap folded piece of thin card board, with the same garish rabbit or teddy bear holding an indistinguishable posie on the front, the same stilted little verse inside, written by an automated machine, for the sole purpose of selling yet more cards?

Scully didn't know why it mattered to her, why the disappointment could stick to her for several days afterwards, even, and she hated herself for it later.

Even as she took her coffee into the hall to check the door mat, she felt the twinge of annoyance at herself underneath the growing anticipation, the hope which died as quickly as it had risen.

Nothing. Of course not. As always.

She knew there was no reason Mulder would send anything. Of course not.

So she told herself that she hadn't expected anything.

She told herself she wasn't disappointed.

*

"Hey, Scully."

"Hey."

She knew even before she said it how flat her voice sounded, and inwardly cursed herself for betraying her mood so readily.

Trying to sound more animated. "Happy valentines."

Her voice sounded alright to her.

Mulder looked up from his work.

"You okay, Scully?"

"Fine."

"Get any valentines?"

Why? Why did he have to ask her that?

"Yeah, my mail box is overflowing with token from the many admirers I've acquired through my wild social life." She sighed "What do you think, Mulder?"

He looked a little surprised at the bitterness in her tone.

"No, I didn't get any."

"Please don't tell me that you're depressed over that, Scully."

She would have liked to make a smart remark but she couldn't think of anything that didn't sound tragic.

Hiding anything from Mulder was also wearing, and, in the end, pointless.

He knew her so well she often found herself casually admitting things she'd never imagined telling anyone else, and he seemed to pick up on her moods so well that even when she tried to hide something from him, she got the impression that he was only waiting until she was ready to admit it to him out of respect for her, because he knew it was inevitable.

"Please don't tell me that you're depressed over that, Scully."

She couldn't deny it, she was a terrible liar, but admitting it would be as humiliating as anything ever was, so she settled for twirling her chair to face the opposite direction so he couldn't see her face any more.

"Scully, c'mon" his tone was gently teasing, with a hint of incredulity "It's a folded up piece of paper that was designed by someone who knows absolutely _nothing_ about you, let alone cares about you.... would you really want to be with someone who gives you some mass produced token of love just because the card company told him to?"

_This is interesting...I never knew Mulder thought so much about it...._

Scully twirled back around slowly.

"Wow...sounds like someone rehearsed that. Since when do you care so much about valentines day?"

"Since when do you?"

"Well...since always..."

The words were an effort. Even in the half light of the office, Mulder could see a faint colour come to Scullys face.

"Seriously?"

"Why is that funny?"

"You just always struck me as too intelligent to let yourself be controlled by what other people want you to want."

"Wow, and I thought it was pathetic before...."

"Hey, it's not pathetic, Scully-"

He was trying to make her feel better, and even while she recognized and was grateful for it, it also made her feel worse.

"Actually it is, Mulder." She sounded weary. " I know how its commercial, I know its devoid of meaning beyond money, I know how stupid it is... It's pathetic cos I know all that and I still find myself hoping I'll get one, year after year...." She rolled a biro across the desk and watched it fall to the floor "And then i'm incredibly let-down and depressed every year because I haven't got one..."

"I find that hard to believe, Scully-"

"What, that I let it depress me?"

"Well yeah, but more that you haven't been sent one."

She laughed, sounding uncharacteristically bitter. "Take a look at my social calender and you'll understand better."

"Are you okay, Scully?"

"Yeah, i'm fine. Just valentines day always makes me like this. Do me a favour? Just ignore me til tomorrow, and don't let me talk to anyone today."

Mulder grinned, and pushed a cappuccino over to her. She took it gratefully.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love you, Mulder..."

"I think it's come up before..."

He watched her swirl the pale liquid in the Styrofoam cup for a few minutes before he could bring himself to interrupt.

"Scully"

"Mmmmm?"

"You know the valentines day cards?"

"Mulder..."

"Has it ever occurred to you that the reason it bothers you is because you're waiting for a card from _someone, _not just waiting for a card in general?"

_Um. Yes. Ever since I first met you. _

_Don't get your hopes up, Dana, he's only talking hypothetically._

_I think._

"No." _Yes._

"Actually, only once"

_The only time when it wasn't you I was thinking about when I hoped for a card._

"When?" Mulder leant forward with so much interest, Scully couldn't help smiling.

"Remember how I told you about prom? The poker?"

"And the elusive guy who appeared a little bit klepto?"

"Shut up."

"The phantom card stealer?"

"Shut up, but yes. I only saw him that one time, and I couldn't ask anyone about him in case they told him I had a crush on him... I really hoped he was gonna wait til valentines day...and send me a mystery valentine...and I'd know it was him cos he'd put something about the poker party in the card...and then I'd see him again...and every valentines day after that for a long time, I kind of always hoped he was just waiting until the right time to send a card...like he was shy or whatever, but one day I'd see him again, even if it was late..."

Scully trailed off, and looked away quickly, embarrassed she'd let herself go so far.

She expected Mulder would say something else, and when he said nothing, she glanced over to him quickly.

He wasn't looking at her. His eyes were focused on some point in the middle distance, like he was trying to make up his mind about something.

"Mulder?"

"Sorry...i just spaced for a moment."

She couldn't help feeling slightly wounded at his obvious indifference to what was so important to her.

"Right. I'm...I have to go get..I..."

She left without finishing her sentence, before her hurt could show on her face.

*

"I used to think that...you know, maybe one day he'd..."

Scully trailed off, and Monica's face creased in sympathy.

"And...he hasn't?"

"Sometimes it feels like he's just lost interest in me. It's been so long... Wouldn't something have happened by now, if it was going to?"

"Dana, I know you don't want to hear this but maybe you should just try to move on?"

"I know" Dana turned to face her friend. "I know I should, but how can I? I mean...it's _Mulder_..."

*

When Scully got back to the basement office, it was deserted. Mulder had already left.

She didn't feel any better after talking to Monica. Now she just felt worse.

She didn't even know how she was supposed to feel towards Mulder any more; everything was too complicated, they'd been through too much together for him to just be a work partner.

There wasn't a word for what he was to her, for what he meant to her, for how much she needed him.

It was only later that the envelope caught her eye- a rose coloured envelope, half hidden under a sheaf of papers, like whoever had put it there had been trying to hide it.

When she opened it, a faded playing card fell into her lap.

And a slip of paper.

**Is it too late?**

She recognized the hand writing in a second.

It was only after she'd been studying the queen of hearts for a couple of minutes, that she understood.

*

"Mulder!"

Her call was half taken by the wind, but even through the storm, he must have heard her because he stopped and half turned to meet her.

Out of breath from running, her hair plastered down by the rain, Scully reached him, and then realized too late that she didn't know what to say.

They stood facing one another, in the almost deserted FBI car park, in the pouring rain.

His eyes searched her face intently before he spoke, breaking the silence between them. "Am I too late, Scully?"

She didn't know how to answer. But when she kissed him, he understood.

*

I have no idea what we're going to do now- you can't kiss someone in a parking lot, not like that, without something changing between you. The question is, what are we now? How much did that kiss mean? Do we just wait til we see each other at work tomorrow? We didn't really say anything much- when we said goodbye, after Mulder had walked me to my car, it could have meant anything. What did it mean? What-

*

There was a knock at the door.

Mulder stood there, holding a bunch of roses tied with ribbon.

"Happy Valentines day, Scully"

**What did you think????? Any suggestions on a better way to end it, any imrovements to make it better at any stage would be welcomed :) This story was actually hard to write, i'm not sure if I even like it myself, but i'll post it any way.**


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